Return Of The Kings (K Project Fanfic)

Prologue

{Author's Time Capsule: Okay! So, recently I watched this AMAZING anime called K Project (the name still confounds me) which, sadly, was only 13 episodes long. T_T. And, the ending had me wailing. But other that that, the anime was absoltely amazing. AND, wait for it..there's gonna be a Season 2! Cue confetti. Yay!

Set in an alternate world, the anime revolves around the mystical (magical? supernatural? or does it have a classification of its own?) things that occur in the yown of Shizume City somewhere in Japan. Basically, people have the chance of gaining powers! Yay! But to get those powers, you have to join a clan, and swear allegance to the king of that clan. These are not your typical robe-wearing, throne-warming kings. These are just average people who are chosen by some unknown higher force to protect their fellow clansmen. So, each king has their own 'Sword of Damocles', meaning each has a heck of a lot of power. Well, duh. They're kings!

There are seven kings, each of different colors. (Glorified Power Rangers? I think not!) The anime throws light mainly on the red clan, HOMRA, the blue clan, SCEPTER 4, and the Silver and Colorless kings. It so happens that one of the members of the red clan is brutally murdered by a lunatic who claims to be the next Colorless king, and the murder is caught on film, coincidentally. So now, the red clan want revenge, the blue clan want to ensure justice is served (being like the police of the town), and an innocent man is framed for the murder.

And before I tell you the whole story, I better shut up..

This fanfic is my continuation of the anime, with an additional character here and there. So, introductions are over, here we go!}

On the outskirts of Shizume City, the only part of the city not enveloped in a cloud of technology, something stirs. A huge crater sits in the middle of a grassy plain that once fed the people of the city, too big to be manmade.

No one knows how it was formed, because no one was around to witness it. The crater lies undisturbed for days and weeks on end, marring the green field, but there's no one around to complain.

And, of course, since there was no one around, the presence of an unconscious boy in the middle of the crater went completely unnoticed.

After a few weeks, the boy, barely out of college, begins to regain consciousness. He groans and turns his head both sides, the dirt fails to stain his silver-white hair somehow.

Some pebbles loosen above his head and fall down onto his face. At this, his hazel eyes spring wide open.

He sits up quickly, and instantly regrets it. His head starts throbbing furiously, as though a hundred drills are at work trying to crack open his skull. He puts a hand to his cranium, the pain making him grit his teeth.

Slowly, the throbbing ebbs and fades away. The silver haired boy slowly gets up and surveys his surroundings. Using larger rocks as footholds, he climbs out of the crater, dusting himself at the top. All that military training in Germany finally comes in handy, he thinks.

The boy spots a young woman down the road, and runs up to her. The young woman looks up from her map to see a kid head her way. When he reaches her, she notices that he doesn't look like any of the locals.

The boy bows low, like an old-time gentleman, a gesture which seems odd in this era, almost forgotten.

He smiles kindly at her, something in that boy's eyes seems to be ancient and wise.

"Guten Tag meine Dame. Dürfte ich fragen darf in welcher Stadt ich sein?"

The boy frowns slightly when he sees confusion cross her face. Then, in a sudden moment of realization, she understood. She addresses him in a different language to the one he's just used, but a language he understood nonetheless.